Nice to Meet New Folks
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya verse. With a new character coming along, how are Serenity's crew going to cope? Thank you for reading, and reviews are shiny! Last chapter for this little arc up now ...
1. Chapter 1

"Freya?" River called down the hatch.

"Come down, _mei-mei_."

The girl stepped down the ladder, stopping at the bottom as she saw Freya feeding Ethan. "Oh, I didn't mean to –"

"It's okay," Freya said. "He's hungry. Again."

"He's happy."

Freya smiled. "I know." She eased her son at her breast a little. "I'm just kinda not used to being a continual source of food as yet."

"Kaylee managed it."

"Kaylee understands a great deal more than any of us might give her credit for." She laughed. "Did you want something, or have you just come to visit?"

"Can I … would you mind if I …"

Freya was surprised. River was never lost for words. They might not make sense, but she never had problems finding them. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Contraception."

Freya tried not to laugh. "River, honey, do you think I'm the right person to be talking to this about? Considering I am currently breast-feeding my first born?"

"I need your help," she said simply.

The older woman closed her mouth. "Right." She patted the bed next to her. "I think you'd better sit down."

River nodded and sat down, pulling her legs up under her.

"Is it Jayne?" Freya asked softly. "River, _mei-mei_, I know you care about Jayne. I know you care a _lot_ about Jayne. And I know you do the things you do because you think it's the only way to show him how you feel. " River dropped her head, her hair hiding her eyes, picking up a pillow and hugging it to her. "It isn't," Freya went on. "The only way, that is. Talk to the man. If he doesn't run screaming from the room then –"

"Not yet," River interrupted.

"But it's going to be?"

"Not yet."

"I don't understand, River."

"I don't want Jayne yet."

Freya sighed. "Now, I know you can tell me exactly what that means. And I'd be obliged if you would."

River smiled suddenly. "There's someone else first."

"Someone … on the ship?" Freya's mind flew through the options. Mal – well, the girl had always had something of a crush on her husband, but she didn't think it was more than that; Simon – not in this lifetime; Hank – Zoe would kill her. And with Jayne out of the equation …

"Not yet."

"Who, then?"

"We're landing on Verbena, and he will join us there." She bit her lip. "I just want to be ready."

"But we're not picking anyone up," Freya said, still confused. "It's just a delivery."

"We will." River put the cushion down. "I know the mechanics, the positions, the … taste." She sounded so adult. "With everyone on this ship being so loud, I can't not know. But I don't want a baby. Not yet. I could self-medicate but I don't really know the best method, and I thought you might be able to advise me."

"River, don't you think you should be talking about this with Simon?"

The girl laughed. "You know what he'd say."

"That the only perfect form of contraceptive is not to have sex. True." She looked at River closely. "But I thought –"

"I haven't."

"Then this is …"

"Getting ready."

"Right." Freya thought for a moment, determined not to get embarrassed by this forthright and candid young woman. "You know, I think there may be someone better qualified to help with this."

"I'm not talking to Simon –"

"Not Simon."

-x-

"I see," Inara said, looking intently at the young girl. "And you thought I could assist?" She looked at Freya.

"'Nara, I'm not exactly the best person to advise, but I just figured you'd know more than me." Freya sat down, Ethan in the sling Jayne had made across her chest. "Look, do you mind if I … only I didn't finish feeding him."

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Inara blushed just a little, and turned away, but not before seeing the other woman open her shirt and put her baby to her nipple. "Um, River, I think you'd better sit down too," she added hurriedly. River complied, at ease with the scene going on opposite her.

"Well, I suppose I'd better ask a few questions first," Inara began.

"Of course."

"Are you planning on having sex with this man?" She paused. "I'm presuming it's a man, otherwise you won't need to use anything."

"It is." She shrugged. "And I don't know. I just …"

"Want to be ready. I got that." Inara sat back and looked at the girl. Not a child anymore. She was an adult, with adult needs. "Well, I will say to use condoms unless you know exactly where he's been." She watched River colour. "And you have to ask. I don't care if it is embarrassing. Even if Simon can cure any sexually transmitted disease with a simple injection, you don't want to have to explain it to him. Do you?"

"No," River said quietly.

"It isn't just a case of preventing an unwanted pregnancy, River."

"I know."

"In which case, I would recommend Bropaxin. It lasts about three months before it has to be renewed, and shouldn't interfere with your cycle."

"What do you use?" River asked, her dark eyes on Inara. "When you were servicing clients."

"Cotolamine. It's much more long lived in the body."

River nodded. "Yearly injections."

"Yes."

"But it can fail."

Inara swallowed. "It can."

"Such a failure can cause problems." River gazed at her, then dropped her eyes.

"River," Freya said warningly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to …"

Inara took a deep breath, trying to control the trembling of her heart. "That's all right, River. But that information stays on board this ship, _dong mah_?"

"I won't tell anyone. And I am sorry." She looked back up. "You _could_ have told us all a long time ago."

"How could I?" Inara asked softly. "What good would it have done?" She glanced at Freya, sitting so still.

"Keeping things bottled up inside does no-one any favours." The young psychic reached out unexpectedly and patted Inara on the hand. "Talking is better."

"Perhaps."

They looked at each other, then River sprang to her feet. "I have to go. We'll be landing soon and I need to change." She looked down at the tight shorts and t-shirt she was wearing. "I can't go like this."

Inara got to her feet. "Honey, you know it takes a couple of weeks to become effective, don't you? Even Cotolamine takes a while."

River nodded. "It won't be yet. He isn't ready."

"River, who isn't ready?" Freya asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Jethro."

-x-

It wasn't really a fight. More a case of five men beating the shit out of a sixth. He was on the floor, knees drawn up to protect his vitals, his arms over his head, but that didn't stop the kicking.

Jayne stood in the doorway to the bar, watching. Hell, the kid wasn't even trying to fight back.

A soft hand laid itself on his forearm. "Jayne."

He looked down. "What do ya want, moonbrain?" he asked.

"You know you promised to get me a man?"

His brow creased, and a surge of something he couldn't name flashed through him. "I'd kinda thought you'd forgotten about that."

"No." She was staring at the men still punching and kicking. "Him."

He glanced back over, surprised. "Which one?"

"The one on the floor."

Jayne bristled. "Hell, girl, he's a wimp! What'd'ya want him for?"

"Just keep your promise."

Jayne looked back at her, seeing the seriousness on her face, and shrugged. "Okay. But then we're even." He sounded angry.

"Even," she agreed.

He pushed off from the wall and strode over to the group of men, pulling them off the young man on the floor one at a time, tossing them aside like broken dolls. Reaching down he took hold of the victim's shirt, heaving him to his feet. "Looks like it's your lucky day," he said, then sighed. "Not that you know it," he added, picking the unconscious man up and draping easily him over his shoulder. He looked at River. "Think your brother's gonna have a bit of work to do."

She nodded, holding the door open.

-x-

Simon stitched the cut on the young man's forehead, putting a weave carefully on top. Then he checked the young man's eyes. Still out.

"What's he doing here?" he asked his sister, who was sitting cross-legged on the counter. "I recognise him. He's from Bathgate Abbey."

"Jethro," she agreed.

"So what is he doing here?"

"Kinda like to know that my own self," Mal said, standing in the doorway, his arms crossed. "Jayne told me we've got us a new passenger, and since I don't let anyone on board my boat without deciding about them first, I'm kinda curious to hear your side of things."

"He was being hurt," the young psychic said. "I wasn't going to just leave him."

"No, okay, I can understand that. But they've got doctors in that town. Why not just take him to one of them?"

"Simon's better."

"River, you give me a straight answer or …"

"Or what?" She looked him in the face. "You'll put me over your knee?"

"Do not tempt me."

"Mal, I have to say, if you even think about doing that …" Simon began, then stopped. "Just let me know and I'll make sure I'm somewhere else."

Mal's lips twitched. "Will do, doctor." He stepped closer to the girl. "Now, albatross, you wanna tell me what this is all about?"

"His name's Jethro," River said.

"I kinda figured that. And he's from Bathgate Abbey."

"He was going to be a Shepherd, but he left before taking the white."

"Well, that coulda been mighty sensible of him," Mal said, glancing at the young man. "It still doesn't explain why he's lying in my infirmary."

"He's my friend." She gazed into Mal's blue eyes. "He came looking for me. I had to find him."

There was a distinct feeling of someone crawling amongst his thoughts, and he dropped his head slightly to look at her from under his eyebrows. "You stop that, girl. You know what I said about reading minds. Particularly mine."

"I just want to make you understand." She almost looked as if she were going to burst into tears.

"So he's your friend." Mal nodded, turning to look at the young man on the medbed. "How is he, doc?"

"Concussion, a couple of cracked ribs, a fracture to the right wrist … he'll live, but he'll be uncomfortable for a few days."

"Will he be okay if we put him off the boat?"

Simon glanced at his sibling, who was shaking her head vehemently. "Well, I …"

"Your opinion, doc, not your sister's."

"I'd rather he stayed here, at least for twenty-four hours. Just in case the concussion proves to be something worse."

"'Kay. Well, we got that job on Persephone that we gotta get to, and Hank's saying if we don't go now we won't get there in time …" He looked down. "Seems awful young to be a Shepherd," he commented.

"Too young," River echoed.

"Well, make him comfortable. Looks like he's gonna be with us for a day or two." Mal strode out of the infirmary, well aware that the young girl was smiling broadly at his back.


	2. Chapter 2

It felt … odd. His eyes were still closed, and he was pretty sure he was alive, but it didn't feel like his room. For a start there was movement, just beyond the reach of his understanding. And a sound, a sort of hum, that vibrated through his chest. Very odd.

"He's awake."

It was a girl's voice. At least, that's what it sounded like. Not that he'd had that much to do with girls in his shortish life, what with going into the Abbey at a young age, and before that always being somewhat awkward …

"And he's thinking about girls." Now she sounded as if she were trying not to laugh.

That was too much. He opened his eyes into a brightness above him that made him blink rapidly.

"You're all right," said a man, his accent the same as the girl's, but his intonation professional, caring. "Just lay still." A face swam into view. "You have a slight concussion, but that's to be expected."

"They were kicking you," the girl spoke again. "Jayne stopped them."

The man moved back, to be replaced by … "River?" he said, his voice croaking.

She smiled. "Hello, Jethro."

"What … where …" He struggled to sit up but the man pushed him back down.

"Not yet," he said, smiling, his almost black hair a contrast to his blue eyes. "Now you're awake I just want to run a couple of tests before I let you out of here."

"Tests? Out of here?" He suddenly realised just how stupid he must sound. "Where is here?"

River, her dark hair hanging either side of her face, took his left hand in hers. "Serenity. You've been looking for me."

"No, I … Serenity?"

"She's a Firefly," came a different voice, and he looked over towards it. A man stood in the doorway, his arms crossed. He was tall, wearing a soft russet shirt that looked old and comfortable. Dark pants, somewhat tight, were held up by brown leather suspenders over his shoulders, and tucked into workmanlike boots. He wasn't wearing a gun, but the impression, overwhelmingly, was of one at his hip. "That's her name, Serenity. My boat." He stepped inside and glanced at River. "Frey told me he was awake."

"Boat?" Jethro repeated weakly.

"A spaceship," River explained. "You're on a spaceship."

"Oh." He shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Don't expect you do," the man who appeared to be in charge said, moving closer to the bed. "I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds. And you're Jethro, according to River here."

"Yes … yes, I am." He held onto that, the only fact that currently seemed to make sense. "Why am I … what am I doing on this ship?"

"'Ppears you got yourself into a peck of trouble," the captain said, his eyes twinkling. "River found you being the subject of your own little party."

"They were kicking you," River repeated. "Jayne stopped them."

"I have to thank her," Jethro said.

River laughed. "Jayne isn't a her," she explained.

"Jayne's not a girl?" Jethro screwed his forehead up. "I don't understand."

"Not sure we understand the man sometimes," Captain Reynolds said, smiling slightly. "Still, figure he saved your life, or at least your wits. Seems they weren't intending to stop." His lips twitched. "Any reason that you can recall why'd they want to do that?"

"I don't …" Then the memories came flooding back, and he blushed.

"Anything to do with a girl?" the captain supplied, obviously somewhat amused.

"I …" Jethro swallowed. "There was a young lady serving, and they were … one of them had …"

The older man nodded sagely. "You went charging to her rescue, only there were more than you thought and you ended up on the floor."

"Something like that," Jethro mumbled.

"Gets more people in trouble that way," the captain said, smiling now. "Still, looks like River got to you before they did too much damage." He looked at the other man. "Doc?"

"He was lucky. The concussion is very mild, and the other injuries will heal quickly enough. Probably better if he gets his bearings rather than cluttering up my infirmary."

Infirmary … something else clicked. "You're River's brother. You were at the Abbey too."

"Simon," River said. "His name's Simon." She pulled his hand. "Come on. I'll show you around and then introduce you to the rest."

"Better let her, Jethro," the captain said, chuckling. "You really don't wanna make her mad."

River glared at him. "I don't do that any more, _Captain_," she said pointedly. She turned to Jethro. "Come on."

Jethro nodded and swung his legs off the bed, then groaned as aches made themselves known, in particular around his chest. "Is this a good idea?" he asked.

"Just don't do anything too energetic, give those ribs a chance to heal," the doctor advised. "And no lifting with your right hand."

He looked down at his wrist, surprised to see a rigid support on it. "Did I …"

"I think someone stamped on it," Simon said, putting his equipment away. "But it will heal well."

"Is there anything else I need to know?" he asked, unable to keep the frustration out of his tone.

"No, not that I can think of," the doctor said equitably.

"Good." He stood up carefully, then put his bad hand to his belly.

"What is it?" Simon asked, concern on his face.

"My stomach's rumbling," Jethro admitted.

The captain laughed. "It would appear that this young man needs some food inside him," he said to River. "Best start showing him around via the galley."

"It's time to eat anyway," River said, taking his left hand and tucking it under her arm. "Then you can meet everyone."

"Right," Jethro said, a little weakly. "Good."

As they left the infirmary, into an area that was warmly if oddly decorated with bits and pieces of furniture, Jethro heard a voice from over the com.

"Mal, got Badger on the vid. He's got more info on that job."

"Be right there," the captain said.

"This way." River led the way up a series of stairs. "Kaylee's cooking."

"Kaylee?" he asked. "Is that a boy or a girl?"

River laughed, a sound that seemed to sooth him. "A girl. Simon's wife."

"Is that … was she at the Abbey too? A bit …" He mimed a bulge at his waist.

"That's Bethany," River said. "The baby, I mean. Not a baby any more, though. And they got married six months ago."

"I'm sure that would please Shepherd Delrani no end," Jethro muttered.

"He doesn't count." There was a dismissal in her words that intrigued him. "Not worth getting angry about."

"Were you?" he asked softly.

She turned a brilliant smile on him. "Here we are!" she announced, leading him down a few steps.

The room in front of him was homely, friendly somehow, mismatched chairs around a large wooden table, with a small alcove set with more easy chairs. Cupboards lined most of the walls, and there were flowers and trailing vines painted up the support beams and along the pipes. A counter filled one side, and a young woman stood behind, stirring a pot.

"River, you got that – oh." She stopped, and smiled. "This the young man Jayne was goin' on about?"

"Kaylee, this is Jethro," River said brightly.

"I'm pleased to meet you," Jethro said, holding out his right hand automatically.

"Don't look like you can shake that right now," the woman called Kaylee said. She was pretty, her brown hair falling below her shoulders, waving softly, and what he could see of her figure inside her coverall was shapely.

"Ah, no." He lowered his hand, ashamed of himself for thinking of her form.

"Ya know, Simon said people shake hands to show they ain't got a weapon in 'em," Kaylee went on conversationally. "Though what happens if you're left-handed …"

"You get stabbed in the back," River said.

Kaylee laughed. "Reckon perhaps you do. River, you got that yellow spice you said we could use?"

"Oh, yes. I'll go and get it." She turned to Jethro. "You sit here." She patted a chair. "I'll be right back." She ran off back the way they'd come.

Jethro stood awkwardly, wondering if he should attempt to make conversation. Not that he need worry. The young woman at the counter was happy enough to chatter.

"I remember you from the Abbey," she said, pulling plates from a cupboard. "Not that we got to speak, but I saw you watching us when we left."

"I met River," he said, then held out his hands. "Let me help."

Kaylee waved him away. "No, no. I'm sure my husband's told you not to use that hand, so you just sit down like River said and tell me something about yourself."

He watched her put plates around the worn wooden table top. "Nothing much to tell."

"Well, where were you born?" She smiled at him, her soft brown eyes encouraging, friendly.

"A small moon no-one's ever heard of."

"Try me."

"Eos. It's close to -"

"Bernadette." She grinned. "We did a drop off there once."

"I didn't think anyone ever actually visited," Jethro said in surprise. "I've only ever met people who came _from_ there, never went _to_."

"We been all over." She dumped a handful of mugs on the table. "Here. I think you can do this without Simon getting all doctory about it."

"I don't know who -"

"Don't much matter," she said, and went back to her cooking.

"That smells good," he said, parceling the mugs one to a plate.

"Thanks." She looked over her shoulder at him. "So if you're from Eos, how'd you end up at the Bathgate Abbey?"

"When I finally got up the courage to tell my parents I wanted to be a Shepherd, the biggest obstacle was that there wasn't an abbey anywhere even close. So I had to work my passage on a freighter. Bathgate was the first one I came to."

"And you'd been there … how long?"

"Nearly eight years. I was almost ready to take the white."

"Take the …" She looked at him quizzically.

"Become a Shepherd."

"I didn't think it took that long."

"It doesn't. But I couldn't … they wanted to make sure I really wanted to be a Shepherd."

"So why didn't you?"

"Because he wasn't meant to be," River said as she stepped back down into the galley. "Sorry it took so long. I couldn't remember where I'd put it."

"You?" Kaylee said, smiling.

River grinned. "Even I forget sometimes." She looked at Jethro. "Having a nice talk?"

"Jethro here was just telling me how he came to be at the Abbey." Kaylee handed River a large dish of bread in exchange for the small jar of spice.

"More important that he left," the girl said, carrying it round and putting it into the middle of the table.

"Ain't we eatin' yet?" asked a big man as he stepped over the threshhold. "You know what happens when I don't get fed regular." He glared at Jethro, almost as if he were daring him to say something. "Ain't you dead? Figured you were, the way them guys were pounding on you." There was more than just annoyance in his voice.

He was big. From his blue t-shirt with a regrettably naked lady on the front, to his combat pants, everything about him was just shouting big. Including a fragrance that was at once off-putting and familiar. Jethro remembered it from his youth, when his father was cleaning his gun after potting rabbits for supper. It was the smell of gun-oil and black powder. It was also familiar from a lot more recently. Something about being slung over a shoulder and getting a faceful of … "Are you Jayne?" Jethro asked, not able to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"That's me," the big man agreed, pulling a chair out. "Jayne Cobb." His eyes narrowed, the dare becoming more aggressive. "Got a problem with that?"

"No, no," Jethro stammered, eyeing the large knife thrust into this giant's belt. "It's just … I gather I have you to thank for my rescue."

"Weren't my doing," the man called Jayne said. "I was happy watchin'em take you apart. River here was the one who made me drag you outta there." He sat down, and even then his size seemed to dominate things. "Not my idea at all," he muttered, smoothing his goatee beard.

"Well, I'm sorry about that," Jethro said, earning another hard look.

"Ignore him," Simon said, coming in from the direction of the infirmary. "He's always like that." He went and stood next to his wife, putting a kiss on her cheek. She smiled sweetly at him.

Jayne was about to make some comment when an elegant lady entered. "And who's this?" she asked. "A new member of the crew?" She was stunning, her dark hair caught up in a jewelled clasp that reflected the lights. Her clothes were expensive, a gold top and loose black skirt, while her necklace alone looked as if it could buy this ship three times over.

"My name is Jethro McCall," he said, bowing slightly. "I am … was … going to be a Shepherd."

"But it's still important enough to you that it's how you introduce yourself," the woman said astutely, her voice soft, mellifluous.

"I …"

She took pity on him. "I'm Inara Serra. I _used_ to be a Companion."

He smiled gratefully. "Miss Serra."

"Inara, please." She smiled at him and headed for the chair at the end of the table. He sat down again.

"Just saying that Badger's not exactly one for being trustworthy," said yet another voice.

Jethro looked to see a man in a blue one-piece step into the galley followed by a dark woman.

"And I ain't disagreeing with you," she said. "But it's been a while since we had a decent job, and if this gets us the coin, then –" She stopped, looking at him.

"This is Jethro," River said quickly, standing behind him with her hand on his shoulder. "He's a friend of mine."

"Hi there," the man said, his face open, his brown hair sticking up every which way. "I'm Hank. I pilot this ship, keep her out of the way of pirates, conmen and dread Reavers." He glanced at the woman by his side. "This is Zoe. She's first mate. Don't go annoying her else they'll never find your remains." He leaned forward a little. "And she's taken."

"Right," Jethro smiled a little shakily at the Amazon at his side. As tall as the man who laid claim to her, she wore a leather waistcoat like it was armour, and, like the captain, gave the impression of being armed all the time.

"Jethro," she said slowly, little expression on her face.

"Ma'am."

"Don't think anyone's ever called her that and gotten away with it," Captain Reynolds said from the doorway. "You're privileged, Jethro."

Jethro's jaw dropped. As the captain stepped down into the galley, the mishmash of different people miraculously became a crew, a family, and it was this man's doing. He was their leader, the glue that held them together. Though the man Jayne was bigger, physically more powerful, even he was dwarfed by the strength the captain had. And this was a man carrying a baby in his arms.

A woman followed him, a child on her hip, watching the captain with eyes that spoke so surely of love that Jethro had to remind himself to breathe. He recognised her from before, from the Abbey, but this was a side he'd rarely seen in anyone. A bit scary, if he admitted it, but strangely appealing at the same time. With her short brown hair and sandy coloured shirt and pants, there was something about her that complemented the captain so perfectly he wasn't at all surprised when the man said, "Don't think you've been introduced. This here's Freya. My wife."

She smiled at him and he got a little warm.

"Jethro. At last. River's told us almost nothing about you," she said, with just a hint of amused blame.

"I'm … very boring."

"I doubt that." Freya grinned and he had to smile back. She turned to Simon. "Here," she said, passing the child to him. "Your turn."

"Daddy," the little girl said, hugging his neck.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said, his face softening. "What have you been doing today?"

"Playing with Ethan."

Freya laughed. "Bethany had a tea party," she explained. "Ethan was guest of honour."

Mal pulled out her chair so she could sit down. "That why he's got crumbs in his hair?" he asked, looking down at the baby he held.

"Damn, thought I'd got all of them," she said, leaning forward and brushing the baby's head.

Mal sat down and looked at Jethro. "In case you were wondering, this one's mine. Name of Ethan," he said, indicating the baby. "Bethany over there is Simon and Kaylee's."

Jethro watched Simon put the child into a sort of high chair. "Right." More names. He felt like his head was spinning.

Suddenly River was at his side. "Come on," she said softly.

"What? Where?" he said, bewildered.

"The common area. We'll eat there."

"Will we?"

"Yes." She made him stand up then quickly heaped two plates with food and bread. "Come on," she said again, leading the way back.

As they turned the corner to the stairs, he heard voices.

"I think we were too much for him."

"Hey, I didn't hardly say a word."

"No, Jayne, of course not. Just sat and glowered at him."

"Watch it, little man, or the next time we work out –"

"Jayne."

"Aw, hell, weren't gonna damage him permanent like."

"It's probably the concussion."

"There are quite a lot of us."

"And some of us are harder to take than others."

"What're you lookin' at me for, Mal? I told you, I weren't saying a word …"

River sat him down on the yellow chair and looked at him, her head on one side. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise," she said softly. "All of them, in one go like that."

He managed to smile. "It wasn't your fault. And I'm not usually as bad as that."

"Put your head back." She waited. "Put your head back," she insisted.

"Okay." He laid back.

"Now close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

He obeyed. "Now what?" he asked.

"Just listen to my voice." She spoke quietly so that he had to concentrate to hear. "The captain of the Firefly Serenity is Malcolm Reynolds, known as Mal. He's married to Freya and they have one child, a son called Ethan. He was born three weeks ago. His first mate is Zoe Washburne, who is…"

He listened as she explained who the crew were, their relationships, and around the time she was telling him about Kaylee's wedding, he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Mal stopped in the cargo bay, his thumbs hitched in his pants pockets. He looked around, seemingly at nothing in particular, then spoke, his warm toffee voice normal conversation level.

"River, we need to have that talk."

"She's not here," came a voice from the top of a stack of crates. "She left."

"Pretty cold outside," Mal said. "Wouldn't've thought she'd have gone without saying goodbye. At least to Bethany."

There was a pause. "What talk?"

"'Bout Jethro. And you knew it was coming, albatross."

There was no movement for a moment or two, then she sighed and climbed down. She looked at him through her hair. "Hello," she said. "Did you miss me?"

"I guess we'd have noticed eventually." He nodded towards a box. "Better sit down."

"I'm fine."

"Well, I ain't standing." He sat down, perched on the edge. "Be obliged if you'd join me."

She gazed at him then glided across to him, sitting down and slipping her legs under her. "How's Freya?" she asked.

"She's shiny, thanks for asking. And no changing the subject."

"I just –"

"River." He contemplated her, the hair she still used like a shield, the soft dress and bare feet, looking for all the 'verse like a girl, not the young woman he knew her to be. "So."

"So," she echoed.

"So he's here. I'm lettin' him stay a while." He lifted his eyebrow at her. "Why am I doing that?"

"He's my friend."

"Oh, I know that, on account of you telling everyone. But I'll say it even if no-one else will. You were at Bathgate for a total of three days. You met the man … how often?"

River stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. "It doesn't matter how long –"

"I think it does." He spoke kindly but firmly. "You're making like you've got your whole life together planned out. He ain't a toy, River. Or a puppy, or any other kind of lost creature. He's a grown man. So I'm asking what you're planning on doing with him."

"I couldn't leave him to be hurt –"

"No, that's plainly the case. And it was a piece of kindness. But that kindness stopped when you made Jayne bring him on board. So now I want to know your intentions." He turned to her.

"Mal …" She looked at him, her eyes dark and wide, limpid and tearful.

"Don't go tryin' that on me," he instructed. "You know those eyes of yours only work on your brother, and he's getting more immune." He sighed. "Okay, so if you don't want to answer out loud, how about I ask questions and you just nod?"

She gazed into his fatherly blue eyes. "'Kay."

"Good." Mal crossed his arms. "Did you expect me to make him a member of the crew?"

"I didn't –"

"Only I ain't got enough put by to feed the ones I got, let alone another stray."

"We've got the job on Persephone –"

"You know that ain't the issue here. Don't go trying to cloud it." He leaned forward. "What am I supposed to do with him? He ain't a passenger – according to Jayne he ain't got the wherewithal to buy one of those sugar sticks, let alone a berth."

"He could be useful," she suggested in a small voice.

"How, exactly?" He shook his head. "Unless I'm likely to go insane and ask for him to hold a service – and he ain't even a full Shepherd, I'd like to point out at this juncture – just what do you figure he could do the rest of us can't?"

"I don't know." She dropped her eyes. Now her fingers were so tangled together she didn't think she'd ever get them free.

"Not sure that's good enough, _mei-mei_." He let a moment go by. "And what about Jayne? He's madder'n a dog with fleas at the moment. You think he's gonna learn to love Jethro?"

"Captain …" Two big tears slid off her nose and splashed onto her knees. "I don't know what's going to happen. I just feel that he's important. To all of us." She looked up at last. "To me."

"Are you in love, little one?" Mal asked, now very gently, hating to see her cry.

"I think I have to find out." She rubbed her nose on the back of her hand.

"Ain't you got a hankie on you?" he asked.

"No," she sniffed.

"My ma told me to always keep one on me," he said softly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a linen square. "Just in case I came across a lady in distress." He handed it over.

"I'm not a lady." She wiped her face.

"Not far off," he contradicted. "In about a month you'll be twenty-one, and on most planets that makes you an adult. Some of 'em would expect you to be married with a parcel of kids by now, but we'll let that one slide on account of you being crazy." He smiled at the surprised look on her face. "Yeah, I been keeping track. But … River, this is just another reason not to be playing with men's affections. Jethro _or_ Jayne. You ain't a little girl no more. You gotta behave like a grown woman."

She blew her nose. "I'll try." She held out the hankie.

"No, you keep it." Mal smiled. "Frey makes sure I'm well supplied."

"She cares."

"That she does." He stood up. "And she's waiting for me." He looked down into her face. "But you think on what I've said. Don't go trying to make something out of this there ain't, or you'll hurt other people. And maybe get hurt yourself. Wouldn't want that."

"You care too."

"That's as maybe," he said, heading towards the stairs. "But with this crew it's easier when everyone's happy." He paused. "Well, not quite so miserable."

"I'll try," she repeated, folding the hankie and placing it carefully inside her dress. She watched him walk up to the top of the gangway, disappearing through the hatch.

She didn't know what was going to happen, only that Jethro needed to be here. For everyone's sake.


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you speak to her?" Freya asked as Mal climbed down into their bunk.

"That I did."

"And?"

"She wasn't any more forthcoming than I expected."

Freya leaned back against the bulkhead where she was sitting in bed, the blanket pooled around her waist. She watched as Mal began to undress, pushing his braces from his shoulders. "So she really doesn't know why she wants Jethro here?"

"Nope." Mal sat down on the edge of the bunk and pulled off his boots, tossing them into the corner. He turned a little to look at her, the light catching the planes of her face. "Seems to be womenfolk can't make up their minds sometimes over men."

She smiled. "Are you being personal here?"

"Well, look at Zoe. Takes her forever to decide Hank might be the man for her. Then there's Kaylee …"

"No," Freya interrupted. "You can't say that. She was the one who waited for Simon all that time. And I waited for you."

"Yeah, but you ain't womenfolk." He leaned forward a little. "You're my wife." He touched her breast gently, cupping it and running his thumb across her nipple.

"Besides, I think it's exactly the opposite for River," Freya said, her breath catching just a little. "It's been a long time since we were at Bathgate, and she'd been waiting for him."

"Yeah, but she spent the time tormenting Jayne. Not sure that can be classed as waiting." Mal looked down, watched her skin begin to tighten. Then he let go. "Sorry," he said, looking up into her hazel eyes, dark in this light.

"What for?" she asked, her breast feeling bereft of his touch.

"Makin' you all unnecessary when I can't do anything to finish it."

Her lips twitched. "I saw Simon today."

"Well, I see him every day, only I don't make a note of it in …" He paused. "Wait a minute. You mean you _saw_ Simon?"

"Mmn."

"About …" He nodded towards her belly.

"I told him if he didn't say yes I was going to do something very nasty and very painful to him. In fact, I told him in explicit detail _exactly _what I'd do to him."

Mal felt his heart start to beat faster. "And what did he say to that threat?"

"He hummed. Then he hawed." She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek, feeling the bristles on his chin. "Then he did some more of those tests." She laughed. "I tell you, I'm beginning to feel like a lab specimen."

"Frey …" His voice turned to begging. "What did the man say? Or do I have to go and interrupt his shenanigans with Kaylee to find out from the horse's mouth?"

"You could try."

"Frey…" Now he was warning her he'd had enough. Couldn't take any more. Needed to know –

"He said it's all right." Her voice was soft, low, just a hint of throatiness.

"All right?"

"I'm healed. Perfectly fine. No need to worry. Or wait. Any longer." She leaned over and kissed him, her tongue pressing between his lips.

He growled deep in his chest and moved forward, taking her in his arms and crushing her to him. Then he let her go enough so he could see into her eyes. "You telling the truth? Not just making this up so you can have your wicked way with me?"

"Oh, I'm telling the truth." She grinned. "In fact, I can prove it." She disentangled one arm enough to reach behind her to the shelf and picked up a small recorder. "Here."

Mal took it, pressed play. A slightly distorted but very familiar voice filled the cabin.

"_I, Simon Tam, do solemnly swear that Freya Reynolds, wife of Captain Malcolm Reynolds, is fully healed, and can go back to doing … whatever it is they do at night. Okay, is that enough? Can I get back to being a doctor and not some kind of sex therapist? Honestly, you're worse than –_" The recording cut off.

"Worse than who?" Mal asked. "And how can I be sure that's Simon's voice?"

"You think anyone else talks like that?" She stroked his back, pulling his shirt from inside his pants.

"Well, no. Mind, I think Hank does a pretty good impression." He looked into her eyes. "You get him to do this?"

"No." She had managed to get to bare skin, and was running her fingertips down his spine.

"You made him record this?" He shook his head, his lips twitching. "Wish I'd been there."

"If you had I wouldn't have needed it." She pushed down inside his pants, pressing into the soft warm skin of his buttocks with her nails.

He trembled, just a little. "So you're really okay now?"

Her hand stopped. "Don't you want to make love to me?" she asked, laying back on the bed, her skin soft and glowing.

He looked down at her, at her body still bearing evidence of his child. "Ethan asleep?" he asked, not touching, not yet.

"Like a baby." She smiled, inviting him.

"Not likely to wake up?" Now he leaned forward just a little, blowing on her nipples, watching as they hardened into little peaks.

She sighed with pleasure. "He's a good boy. Won't wake until morning."

"If you're sure …" He could feel a certain tightness, a heaviness in his groin. "Don't want to be disturbing him at all." He ran a finger down her hip, pushing the blanket lower.

"That's a nice thought," she said, her eyes closing.

"Only we're going to be on Persephone by 10 tomorrow, local time," Mal said softly. "Get the details from Badger, do the job." He kissed the skin of her belly. "You know, might be embarrassing if we oversleep and all …"

She opened her eyes and gazed into his face. "You make love to me right now, Malcolm Reynolds," she said, her voice a mere whisper. "Before I make a scene."

He grinned and slid onto the bed beside her, his hand moving down between her thighs, feeling her ready for him. "You know I'm captain on board this boat, don't you?" he murmured, seeing her eyes widen as he pushed a little further.

"So it's not me taking advantage of you then?" she asked, her voice breaking, finding the sensation of his still-clothed body against her naked flesh very arousing. "More like the other way around?"

"And just you remember that," he agreed, pressing his lips to hers as her arms came up to encircle him.


	5. Chapter 5

Zoe's past was like a closed book to the crew of Serenity. No-one knew much about it, not even the Captain, but he probably knew more than most. He at least knew she was born in space, on a freighter between worlds, her parents working for the man in charge.

"It's a girl?" Boxer asked, looking down into the makeshift crib.

"Her name's Zoe."

"Got a strong pair of lungs on her." He flinched a little as the wailing began again.

"She's hungry," Tom Alleyne said. "Meg's just getting ready to feed her."

"Well, keep her out of the workings. Don't want to be chasing after a kid through the cargo."

"It'll be a while before you need to worry about that," Alleyne said, smiling. "Only just born."

"Yeah, well." Boxer looked down again. "Pretty little thing."

Growing up on a freighter wasn't so bad. As a child Zoe hardly ever set foot on a planet or moon, spending all her time in the black. Until the day of the accident.

She was barely sixteen, tall and gangly, just beginning to fill out a little. Her hair, long and lustrous, was considered her best feature, which was why she kept it tightly out of the way, pinned down and controlled. Her mother, dark-skinned and beautiful, despaired.

"Zoe, why can't you be more feminine?" she asked for the thousandth time.

The girl shrugged. "It ain't me, Ma." She pushed an errant lock back into place. "I'm not the kinda girl who can be pretty."

"That ain't true," Meg Alleyne retorted. "You're going to be stunning, my girl, and put me to shame."

Zoe laughed. "Never happen. No-one's prettier than you."

"Well, you just bear in mind that some men don't want pretty. And they might try to take advantage of you, just because they think they can."

"If they tried they'd be dead."

Meg shook her head. "If I didn't know Tom was your father, I'd be able to guess. You sound just like him."

Zoe hugged her mother. "You've brought me up well, Ma. You and Dad. Just be glad."

"Oh, I am. I am. Just worry about you, is all."

"No need to," Zoe said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere."

The accident wasn't anyone's fault, or if it was no-one was going to admit it. A warped hull plate, a feed line that needed fixing but nobody knew, an explosion that ripped through part of the freighter … and suddenly Zoe was an orphan.

Boxer stared at the girl. "I'm sorry," he said. "Truly. If I could bring them back …"

Zoe nodded, her face impassive. "Nothing will do that."

"If you want to stay …" He paused. "You're good with that gun, and I could use another hand, replace your Pa."

"Ain't gonna replace him," Zoe said softly. "Ain't staying on board."

Boxer didn't look sorry. "I can understand that. What'd you intend to do?"

"I thought about joining up. Put some of my skills to use."

"The military?" Boxer shook his head. "Can't see you doing that."

"Then I'll surprise people."

"Well, if that's what you're intent on doing …" He reached into the drawer of his desk and withdrew a tin box. Opening it, he removed a handful of notes and passed them over. "It ain't much, but it's what your Pa would've earned this trip. And a bit more. Kinda … compensation."

Zoe pushed the notes inside her waistcoat. "Thank you."

"There's a recruiting post on Boros," he went on. "'Less you feel like staying until we hit the central planets."

"No. Boros will be fine." She turned to leave.

"I am sorry, you know," Boxer said quickly. "Your parents were good people."

"Yes." Zoe didn't look back.

On Boros the recruiting officer looked her up and down. "You sure about this?"

"I'm sixteen. My parents are dead. If you want me to get their written permission, you'll have to go and find their scattered molecules somewhere off Whitefall. And somehow miraculously bring them back to life."

The officer did not laugh. "You keep that kinda mouth on you and you'll be storing up trouble, soldier."

"Soldier?" Zoe echoed.

"Yes. And it's sir. Remember that. Every time. Sir."

"Yes sir."

He filled in the last of the papers. "We're having a few small problems out on the border moons, but that should just blow over. Nothing to be concerned about." He looked up. "You'll be training for eight weeks, then be posted. Could be anywhere. Maybe even one of the cruisers."

"Yes sir."

He handed over her orders. "Welcome to the Army of the Alliance, Private Alleyne."

For the next four years she followed orders, going from planet to planet, moon to moon, putting down riots, insurrections, even managing to have some fun, until the war proper started. And her first taste of it was on a godforsaken hunk of rock called Jasper.

"What the hell are we doing here, Zoe?" the young man next to her asked, scratching his head. "I didn't join up to be fighting no Independents."

"We're doing what we're told." She looked down at him. "Taking orders."

"And if they're wrong?" His name was Fielding, and he was younger than her, and not just in age. "I been listening to the things they've been saying, those transmissions on the Cortex."

"You know that's against Regs."

"Not sure I care any more." He shook his head. "Says the Alliance have been bombing moons from here to the border. Zoe, these people they're fighting – they just want to be left alone. Is that so wrong?"

She didn't answer.

"I joined up for the squares and something to do other than wielding a pick down the mine. That's all there is to do on my home planet – mining and related activities. I didn't intend to end up with damp lung, or any of the other thousand and one ailments miners get. And I don't intend ending up with lead poisoning either, not for the Alliance. Not when I think they're wrong."

"Fielding –"

"You look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel the same."

She couldn't. "Talk like that can get you court-martialled," she said instead.

"So? I ain't gonna be around long enough for 'em to find out." He pulled the helmet from his head. "I ain't staying, Zoe. Even if I don't join the Browncoats, I won't fight 'em." He unbuckled his armour and dropped it at his feet. "You coming with me?"

"Fielding …"

The boy smiled sadly. "You won't stay, Zoe. I know you. You've got too much of a moral sense. But I can't wait. So maybe we'll see each other again."

"Maybe." Zoe wanted to stop him, to tell him not to be so stupid, only she couldn't. Mainly because she didn't think he was wrong. Instead she watched him melt into the night, the light from the shells exploding overhead illuminating the landscape, but he was already gone.

Six months later and she was facing an Independent soldier, his rifle trained on her, hers on him. One of them was like to die, and she was damn sure that it wasn't going to be her.

"Seems like we're at something of an impasse," the soldier said, his voice like warm toffee.

"Seems like." Zoe didn't move.

"You gonna shoot me?"

"Thinking on it." She couldn't see him too well in this light, but he looked as if he was smiling. "You gonna shoot me?"

"Just wondering about it." There was a pause. "Guess one of us is gonna have to fire."

"Guess so."

"Better you don't," came another voice from the side. "Zoe'll probably kill you."

"Fielding?" the man said. "You know this purplebelly?"

The young man came out of the bushes. "Name's Zoe. And despite what she's wearing she ain't no purplebelly."

"That the case?" the soldier asked, his rifle not wavering. "You going under false colours?"

"Not sure I know what you mean." Zoe didn't even glance at Fielding. "Thought you'd be dead by now."

"Not yet. Can't help feeling if I stick to my man here, I might even live to see out the war." He moved forward. "If you join us, so will you."

"I'm a soldier."

"Good," the other man said unexpectedly. "Need good soldiers. And I don't much care to wonder what side they started out on, long as they end up on the right one." He stared at Zoe, then lowered his gun. "Putting my faith in you here," he said, his voice light, trusting. "You shoot me, and I'll be somewhat annoyed."

Zoe watched, confounded by this man. But slowly, inch by inch, she lowered her own gun. "If you try anything I'll gut you."

"Fair enough." The man straightened. "And if you try and kill me, I'll do the same. Okay?"

"Okay." Zoe now looked at Fielding. "Is he really worth it?"

Fielding nodded. "Sure is. And I reckon if you're here, so far from the rest of your forces, that you're pretty much of the same mind."

Zoe stared, then nodded. "They're wrong. The Alliance. What they're doing." She looked straight into the taller man's eyes. "But I'm a soldier. A purplebelly, no matter what Fielding says."

"Then take off the uniform, and you won't be no more." He moved closer, a slight smile on his face, and now she could see that he wore a crucifix at his throat.

"That an invitation?" she asked, her lips twitching.

"It is."

After a long moment she nodded. "Name's Zoe Alleyne," she said. "Late of the Alliance Army."

"I'm with the 57th. Known to those that hate us as the Balls and Bayonets Brigade." He stepped forward, his hand out, and she saw his eyes were a bright blue. "Name's Malcolm Reynolds."

…

"I didn't know," Hank said softly, his arm around her naked waist, lying together in the warmth of their bunk.

"No reason you should," Zoe replied, her hand on top of his. "Only two people on board know the story. Three now."

"And you trust me enough?" He looked down into her eyes from where he was resting on his elbow.

She smiled slightly. "We sleep in the same bed. I know about you. I figured it was time you knew about me."

"That why you didn't like me at first? Because we had that in common?"

"No," she said. "I didn't like you because you're a pain in the ass."

"Apart from that."

"Well, it might have contributed to it."

Hank smiled. "Thanks."

"What for?"

"Nothing. Just … thanks." He lay back down, his face in her hair. "Would you have fired?" he asked eventually.

"Yes."

"Killed Mal."

"Yes."

"And he knows this?"

"Mmn."

"No wonder he likes you at his back. He knows where he stands."

Zoe smiled. "Always." She turned so she could look into his eyes. "And so do you."

"I feel honoured," he smiled.

"So you should." She stroked his chest. "So you damn well should." She ran her fingers across his lips. "You gonna kiss me?"

"Long as you promise not to shoot me."

"As long as you do what you're told."

"Okay." He grinned and leaned forward. "Wouldn't want you to tempt you into violence."


End file.
